Текст книги "The Dragon's Favorite Strays"
Автор книги: Ruby Dixon
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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 26 страниц)
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CHAPTER 34
DAKOTA
A dog.
I’m so relieved that I start laughing. It’s not a woman being held captive, but a dog. That takes things down a few notches from “absolutely dire” to “just shitty.” I look over at Rabbit, though, and she’s got an absolutely devastated look on her face. I know she’s thinking of Kermit, who she’s become very attached to very quickly.
“I’m so sorry, Aggie,” my sweet daughter says.
“She’s the best dog.” Aggie gives a watery sniff. “She deserves better.”
It looks like we’re going to rescue a dog, somehow. “You should have told us what was going on.”
“Didn’t know if we could trust you,” Dottie points out. “And it’s a dog. A lot of people wouldn’t stick their necks out for an animal.”
“We will,” Rabbit says immediately. “Right, Mom?”
Some of my frustration with the two women ebbs away. I’m no longer seeing them as two shifty old ladies hiding all kinds of secrets. Instead, they look like two very tired women being blackmailed by a jerk over a beloved pet. “We’re going back to the bookstore,” I say. “And we’re going to find some paint somewhere to cover up all this graffiti. And you’re going to tell us everything so we can figure out how to move forward.”
“You’re going to help us get her back?”
I nod, even as a huge form circles overhead, blotting out the sun momentarily and casting us in a dragon-shaped shadow. “We’ve got a secret weapon. This guy doesn’t stand a chance.”
Aggie surges forward, her hands out as if she wants to clasp my face. “I could kiss you.”
I grab her hands before she can do just that. “I’d settle for you carrying your pack back to the bookstore.”
She makes a “pffft” sound with her mouth. “Ain’t we got a dragon?”
“He’s not a pack mule,” I point out, turning her around and gently steering her back towards her waiting bag. “And you would need his permission. Besides, it’ll do you good.”
What seemed like a short distance earlier this morning feels very far away with a huge pack on my back. Aggie and Dottie don’t bitch about having to haul everything, though. They trudge grimly along behind Rabbit, who’s carrying a pack bigger than Dottie.
Murr continues to lazily circle overhead as we hike our way back to the bookstore. I wonder if it feels good for him to be in his dragon form for a while? I know he chooses to remain human when around us, but I’m not sure which form is his “real” form, or if there even is such a thing. It might be that he’s just being overly protective, but it makes me curious. I wave up at him as we walk, because I don’t want him to think we don’t see him or we’re not thankful for his presence.
Frankly, Murr’s the biggest thing keeping us safe right now and I’m well aware of it. I want to thank him, but the usual ways don’t seem like they would work. He doesn’t strike me as the type to want “stuff.” I can’t feed him, because he is better at hunting than we are.
Maybe a more permanent gift?
Maybe a kith, comes a little voice in my head.
Rabbit’s a bad influence because now I’m thinking about it, too (and I’m calling it a kith).
When we return to the bookstore, the cats immediately come running, no doubt hoping for food. Rabbit drops her pack and immediately sits on the ground, patting her chest, and the cats crawl all over her, rubbing against her hands and face. Aggie throws her pack down dramatically and flings herself onto my favorite lawn chair set near the fire. “Take me now, Jesus. I’ve got no strength left in my bones.”
“Oh, be quiet,” Dottie tells her, but there’s affection in her tone. She sets down her pack carefully, with controlled movements. “You literally carried two pillows a block.”
“Was that only a block? Felt like twenty.” Aggie puts her hand to her forehead. “I need a handsome man to come and fan me so I can cool off. Where’s Big Meat?”
I’m not gonna laugh at her nickname for him. I’m not. It’ll just encourage her. I glance up at the sky and notice Murr settling on a distant rooftop, folding his wings in. “His name is Murr, and he’ll be here soon, I’m sure. Let him be a dragon for a while. It probably feels good to hang out in the sunlight.”
“I guess,” Aggie says dramatically. Dottie pulls up a chair next to her and sits down, too. She’s not as melodramatic as Aggie, but I can tell she looks tired, and I feel a hint of guilt at making them carry packs. Maybe it was too much after all?
I set down my pack next to theirs. “You three stay here. I’ll get the kettle and we’ll boil some water for tea.”
“Get some medicine for the cats,” Rabbit adds, rubbing the cheeks of a little seal point kitten. “This one’s still looking gunky.”
“Tea, and cat medicine,” I amend. “And then you can tell me all about Stella and what happened, and we can make plans to get her back.”
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CHAPTER 35
DAKOTA
It’s strange, but with Murr on the roof, watching over us, I feel safe. Protected. It’s like I can relax, knowing that we truly aren’t in danger in the slightest. It’s a rare feeling in this day and age, and a dangerous one. I can’t allow myself to get used to it. I can’t imagine that Murr wants to hang out with us forever. He’s going to go find other dragons or leave or we’ll move on. Safety is a day-to-day sort of thing.
I need to appreciate it and also recognize that it’s fleeting. Moving to the firepit, I scoop out the ashes into an old plastic bucket so there’s room for fresh wood. Already the friendly cats are coming to greet us, probably wanting a meal. I absently scratch a small tabby head as it rubs against my legs. Did Murr bring them a deer already? Or was he waiting? Should I get some of the scraps from last night that I smoked into dry strips?
Rabbit scoops up a kitten and hands it to Dottie. “Hold him still while I put medicine on his eyes?”
“I can do that.” Dottie strokes the small cat and cradles it gently. “Are you guys medicating all of them?”
“Just the worst ones for now. We cleaned some of them up and their eyes were better. Some need more.” Rabbit dabs the ointment on the tip of her finger and gently smooths it over a squirming kitten’s eye. “Tell us about your dog. What kind is she? How’d you get her?”
Smart, clever Rabbit. It won’t feel like an interrogation if it feels like a natural part of the conversation. I’m not sure if that was her intent, but either way, it works. I’m filled with a rush of pride for my daughter. She really is the best.
Aggie sniffles, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “Stella is the most beautiful beagle.”
“She’s not a beagle,” Dottie corrects.
“Doodle. Sorry. She’s a doodle.”
Dottie shoots a look over at Aggie. “She’s not a doodle, either. What is going on in your brain, woman? She’s a greyhound. Did you see those long legs of hers?”
“It doesn’t really matter what kind of dog she is,” I chime in before they break into a full-blown argument. “How did you get her? Pet dogs are pretty rare in the After.”
I don’t like to think about why dogs are so much rarer than before. I like to think that it’s because people want to keep their food supplies for themselves and not for pets…not that they’ve been eaten by people or by dragons.
“The first year of the After, I was pretty depressed,” Aggie says. “The house I’d owned for forty years got destroyed. Lost contact with my children because they were living up in New England. My husband Harold and I had to move to a fort and it was just the tiniest, ugliest apartment. I didn’t want to get out of bed most days. Harold had a pawn shop before things got bad, and he had some solar-powered battery packs and a few old laptops he’d brought with us for bargaining. One day I woke up, and there was this cute little puppy licking my face. He’d traded all our gear away for baby Stella, just because he knew I was sad and it would cheer me up.” Her face wreaths in a smile at the memory.
“That’s so sweet of him,” Rabbit says, wiping off her fingers and then taking the kitten from Dottie. She sets it on the ground and then hunts down another, checking its face.
Aggie nods. “He was a good man. Died not long after that, too. Couldn’t get any more of his heart meds, you know. Stella helped me get through it.”
“And me,” Dottie retorts.
“And Dottie was helpful too,” Aggie adds, reaching over and touching her friend’s arm.
Dottie looks mollified. She takes the next kitten from Rabbit and glances over at me. “When things got lean at the fort, no one liked that Aggie and I shared our food with Stella. I guess she looked like a big rump roast to them. That’s when we decided to leave. We bribed Curtis to take us south. Heard Fort Dallas was decent. Curtis was nice enough, too. Said he’d been there plenty of times and knew the way like the back of his hand. He’d charge us by the week for his guidance.”
Aggie snorts. “Fucking prick.”
“I should have known better when he said by the week,” Dottie agrees solemnly.
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CHAPTER 36
DAKOTA
Why am I not surprised that the nomad was a prick running a scam? I should have guessed.
“Curtis took us in circles,” Aggie says. “Running our tab up just for fun’cause he didn’t have anything better to do. And we were stuck, so we had to go along with him because we didn’t know the way. We guessed what he was up to when we passed the same billboard for three days straight.”
It’s not the worst thing I’ve heard unscrupulous people doing. The horror stories about most nomads would curl your hair. The After has brought out the worst in humanity, and people take advantage of others all the time. “What were you going to pay him with? Did you still have electronics?”
“Nope. We were going to give him one of Stella’s puppies. It was one reason why we left the fort.” Aggie’s small face grows angry behind her huge glasses. “Since I wouldn’t get rid of my dog at their urging, they stole her from me for two days when someone else came through with a male dog. Now she’s pregnant. I know they want to breed her to sell the puppies, and I didn’t want that life for her. So we snuck out a few nights later with Curtis as our guide.”
“May he rot in hell,” Dottie says grimly. The kitten in her hands squirms and she rubs its ears. “He was the worst.”
Aggie nods. “By the time he got us to the outskirts of the Dallas area, he told us it was our fault it had taken so long for him to get us here. That because we were old he had to take different routes than his regular ones. And instead of just one puppy, he wanted all of them and Stella, too.”
Ugh. “He does sound like the worst.”
Aggie’s mouth quivers, and Dottie picks up the story. “He told us we could ‘earn’ Stella back, but we’d have to pay him in kind. When he ran across you guys, he told us to go in and see if you were worth robbing. If you had anything good, we were supposed to put a red handkerchief on the door at night. That would tell him if there was anything worth taking.”
It sends a chill up my spine. “And if there wasn’t?”
“Then we were supposed to herd you towards Fort Oklahoma. They have a bounty on nomads that are brought in.”
Rabbit shoots me a panicked look, scooping the newest kitten out of Dottie’s hands and moving over to my side. “We’re not nomads!”
“They don’t care, honey,” Dottie says, voice gentle. “But we didn’t put the handkerchief out anyhow. We wouldn’t do that to you ladies.”
“Especially not with Big Meat up there on the roof,” Aggie says.
Which is another point that’s been bothering me. “How did he know we’re working with a dragon? Did you send him a message? Murr was gone when we ran across him the other day.”
“He’s got eyes, don’t he?” Aggie waves a hand at the old bookstore we’re currently in front of, comfortable in the parking lot. “Dragons aren’t exactly invisible. It’s pretty obvious when you have a dragon sleeping outside your porch every night or on the roof in the daytime that you’ve made friends with him.” She cracks a huge smile. “Curtis is probably spitting bullets that his big plans have a dragon-sized kink in ’em. He works best on bullying people and robbing them, but you can’t bully someone with a dragon.”
Dottie glances over at her friend. “It doesn’t get Stella back, though. We’re at an impasse.”
Rabbit crouches next to me, stroking the kitten in her arms. “Murr won’t let anything happen to us. He’ll kill the guy. Eat him in two gulps.”
“That doesn’t get us Stella back, either,” Dottie says gently. “He’s been hiding her from us, keeping her chained up somewhere. If he doesn’t have her, he doesn’t have anything.”
Hmm. “Do you know where he’s hiding out?” When both women shrug, I keep thinking. I don’t like problems that don’t have a solution. “So we need to find Curtis and get him to confess where he’s hiding your dog so we can rescue her.”
“He won’t talk about it. I know he won’t. That dog represents a fortune to him.”
I point at the roof. “He hasn’t met our dragon, has he?”
Aggie looks worried. “How do we know Murr isn’t going to eat him? Or my baby Stella?”
Rabbit makes an offended sound in her throat. She holds up the kitten in her arms. “Murr loves animals! That’s why all these cats are here all the time. He would never hurt your dog.”
“But he could eat Curtis,” Dottie points out. “Just because he hasn’t eaten us doesn’t mean anything. It might be that he doesn’t like the taste of ladies.”
“Obviously, I’ll have to have a conversation with him,” I say. I don’t know how I’m going to convey the help we need, but Murr needs to be part of this. He’s integral to our rescue mission.
Aggie clasps her hands under her chin. “So we’re going to make a trap for Curtis? How do we do it? Bait of some kind?”
“I can be bait,” Rabbit volunteers.
My heart leaps into my throat. “What? Absolutely fucking not.”
As if I’m overreacting, Rabbit rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on, Mom. I’m the most helpless looking one of us four. I can pretend to be out foraging and oops, pretend to break an ankle or something.”
“And then we throw a net over the bastard!” Aggie crows.
Dottie makes a face at her friend, nudging her. “Where’d you get a net, you old fool? This isn’t a cartoon.”
“Maybe we just spring the dragon on him instead,” Rabbit says.
Both elderly women light up. “I like the cut of your jib, young lady.”
My daughter beams. I’m less sold on everything. I’m not about to use my daughter as bait to lure out some dog-trafficking nomad. “We’re not making any plans until I talk to Murr about the situation. No one does anything until I say so, understand?”
“Yes, Mom,” Rabbit says.
“Yes, Mom,” echoes Aggie. She makes a shooing motion at me. “Now, go. Schmooze that dragon and get him in on things. Bat your lashes and giggle a lot. He likes you the best out of all of us and if you want it, he’ll do it for you.”
Does he like me the best out of all of us? Why does that make me want to blush?
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CHAPTER 37
MURR
I soak up the sunshine atop the roof, and down below, I hear the comforting babble of human language. Out of habit, I push my thoughts towards Dakota, trying to make contact with her mind. I get nothing in return, but that’s not surprising. Whatever ability I used to have is completely gone. It’s no longer a sharp pain of loneliness, but more of a dull ache. Hearing their mouth sounds as they talk over one another has grown oddly comforting. I can listen and know they are there nearby, safe and happy because of the tone of their voices. Ribbit exclaims something, breaking into an argument with Doh-dee and Ah-gee, and then they all laugh.
Metal creaks, and Dakotah’s scent drifts up towards me, moving closer. Interesting.
Opening one eye, I watch as she approaches. There’s a nervous scent enveloping her, and she wipes her hands on her covered limbs. She seems uneasy, taking slow steps in my direction. “Hi Murr.”
I lift my head and nuzzle her hair in greeting, since she cannot sense my thoughts. Her scent drifts through the air, sweet and appealing. I want to drink all of it in. My fangs tingle, as if suggesting that I should give her a mating bite and claim her as mine.
But I am a broken drakoni. I cannot communicate with my people, with anyone. She deserves better, and I run my tongue over my chops until the tingling ceases.
She touches my nose with her hand, her fingers trembling. “Murr, can we talk?”
“Tokk” is the sound they use for mouth noises, for conversation. She wants me to make mouth noises with her. I’m pleased that she has sought me out, and I immediately shift into my two-legged form. The sun feels different on my limbs now, and I stretch, easing my muscles, and scratch absently at my chest as I watch her reaction.
The fear scent in her dissipates. A smile lifts her expression, and she looks happy to see me. Her gaze roams over my body, flicking downward before moving immediately back up again. Is she checking that I am wearing her loin wrap? Or is she pleased that I am exposed to her because it is just the two of us? I slide my hand down my waist, toward my cock, to see her reaction.
Dakotah immediately turns away. “Tokk,” she says in a high-sounding tone. She marches a few steps away and sits down, crossing her legs in front of her.
Very well, no loin interest today. I fight back a surge of disappointment, because I have clearly misread her again. I move to sit across from her, mimicking her pose. “Murr tokk.”
Her face flushes with heat, and she keeps her gaze locked on my face. She says a few sounds and then ends with one I recognize. “…man?”
This is the word for the male. Perhaps we are discussing genitals after all. I indicate mine. “Murr man.”
“Yikes! Murr!”
“Yike,” I echo, puzzled. What does this mean? “Murr.”
She flutters a hand in front of her face. “No, no. Nodder man.” When I tilt my head, she thinks, casting her gaze around as if searching for something. She picks up two pebbles and holds them in front of her. Dakotah sets one down. “Murr man.” Then she sets the other one down. “Man.”
There is another male nearby? She has smelled him too, then? “No Murr,” I agree, touching the second pebble. “Bad man.” I touch my nose and sniff with exaggeration. “Murr nose.”
“U smellim?” she asks, startled. She makes the sniffing noise and taps her nose. “Smell?”
I nod. “Murr smell man.”
Dakotah gestures at the ground, panicked. “Here? Now?”
I can tell from her anxiety that she thinks he is nearby. I do not have the sounds to tell her it was days ago. I scramble through my small vocabulary, thinking of ways to show passing time. “Sun…sun. Man.”
She lifts two fingers. “Toodaze ago?”
I follow her gesture, lifting two fingers as well. “Sun.”
Dakotah relaxes, putting a hand to her chest and letting out a laugh full of relief. “Dankgawd.”
“Murr…hunt man?” I ask. “Big meat?”
She pauses, eyes widening. “No meat. No hunt. Weneed Man tokk.”
“Man…tokk,” I echo, confused. Why?
Dakotah starts gesturing, mimicking a variety of things with her arms and making faces. It’s clear she is trying to tell me why she wishes to talk to this male, but I find her movements distracting. She purses her lips and tries to scowl, bends her arms and swings them, and then puts her hands in the air and mocks claws and growls, then points at me. “You. No hunt, just…” and then she growls again. “Murr rawr. No hunt. Rawr.”
“Rawr?” I curl my claws, confused. She wants me to scratch him?
“Murr rawr,” she agrees, and mimics something else next. “Man…eek!” She pretends to be scared.
It dawns on me. She wants me to scare the male. I puff out my chest and let a curl of smoke escape my nostrils, rumbling menacingly. “Murr?” Then I smooth it all away and point at her. “Dakotah tokk man?”
Dakotah claps her hands with excitement. She laughs with delight. “Yes! Yes, datsit!”
I clap my hands together, mimicking her again, and then wait for her to answer what this means. I do it a second time and use the sound they have in the past. “Watdis?”
She reaches out and puts her hands over mine to stop me. Her gaze drops to our joined hands, and her thumb moves over my skin. “Issa clap,” she breathes, then traces a finger down my thumb to one of my claws. “Issa happee noyz.”
I am not paying attention to her sounds. My entire focus is on her touch, the soft fingers moving over my skin.
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